


A Series of Scenarios

by ssswampert



Category: RWBY
Genre: Multi, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-25 01:39:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 17,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6175171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssswampert/pseuds/ssswampert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fills from tumblr. Contains a wider amalgamation of ships than I originally planned when I started posting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arkos and Slow Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> The ships I take for prompt fills on tumblr (which is avpdjaunearc) can be found [here!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com/ships)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon.

Jaune loosens his tie and leans on the balustrade of the balcony with a sigh.

Being at a wedding between two of his teachers was weird. Port and Oobleck were happy enough--or, well, Port-Oobleck and Oobleck-Port, they’d announced at the start of the reception--but it was weird. It almost felt too intimate, and yet it was so much pressure at the same time, since there were Hunters at this wedding that Jaune had barely even begun to  _ dream _ of meeting.

Hunters his dad spoke so highly of back at home, and here he was, wining and dining in the same room as them, and his dad would never  _ know _ .

“Got too crowded?” Pyrrha asks, leaning next to him.

He looks at her and has to look away almost immediately, swallowing thickly, when his eyes light on bare shoulder and gentle curve of collarbone accented by a thin golden chain. Her dress is strapless and a gentle yellow, and she glows with it. “Yeah,” he says, and his voice breaks. Pyrrha giggles, and he laughs nervously along with her.

The music filters out of Beacon’s ballroom and onto the balcony, and Jaune can’t help but think of the last time they were out on this balcony, three--or was it four?--years ago.

“I know how that is,” Pyrrha interrupts his thoughts and sets a hand on his shoulder. “So many people you didn’t know would be here, so much small talk to make, so much ‘yes, thank you,’s and ‘isn’t this romantic’s from people you had no idea knew you existed, let alone wanted to talk to you at all.”

Jaune grins and makes himself look at her again. “Did anyone get starstruck?” he teases, laughing when Pyrrha’s cheeks flush.

“One young man did,” she says. “Someone who graduated a few classes ahead of us. Dark hair, glasses?” she motions, and Jaune just shakes his head; he’s not good with faces. “Nevermind.” She sighs, and then leans on the balustrade next to him.

The music coming out onto the balcony slows, and Jaune gets an idea that leaves the back of his neck burning. “Hey, P?” he says. She looks up at him quizzically, and he focuses on her face instead of the hair curling at the hollow of her throat. “May I have this dance?” He holds out his hand, and she straightens right back up to take it, cheeks pinking all over again.

“You may,” she says, coy.

He draws her close, sets one hand at the small of her back, and nearly leaps out of his skin when instead she takes her hand back and slides both arms around his neck. He curls his arms around her and pulls her closer, all too aware of the feeling of her breath on his jaw.

They sway together, under the stars, and when the song ends Pyrrha lifts her head from his shoulder to step away.

Jaune kisses her once, briefly, and then they sway together to another song.


	2. A Reunion Kiss - Portbleck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by RogueWolf

“And then I--” Peter cuts himself off as the door to his classroom bangs open.

“Peter!” Barty calls, zipping in. “I didn’t realize you were teaching today; I thought you were still on that mission.”

Barty doesn’t seem to realize he’s interrupted a class, nor that several of Peter’s students are giggling quietly amongst themselves at the intrusion. “I thought I told you, Barty,” Peter replies, tilting his head. “I could have sworn--”

He’s cut off by Barty dipping down and kissing him to the tune of several  _ ooooh _ s and more giggling from his students, and he should know better than to spurn it on by setting his hands at Barty’s waist, but he does anyways because it’s been weeks since they’ve seen each other.

“I missed you, Peter,” Barty says, straightening up and smiling softly. Peter can’t help a smile of his own.

“I missed you too,” he replies softly.  _ To hell with it _ , he thinks, and drags Barty down by his tie for another kiss.

Someone wolf-whistles, and Xiao Long calls out “Get it, professor!” before being shushed loudly.


	3. Cooking Together - Arkos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ironwoodisbae and RogueWolf

Pyrrha consults the cookbook one more time before dumping the measuring cup into the bowl. A cloud of flour puffs up, and she waves it away. She hears a rustle behind her, and calls, “Jaune, don’t eat any more chocolate chips, you’ve already had too many,” over her shoulder.

“How did you know that’s what I was doing?” Jaune replies, defensive. His mouth is clearly full of something that Pyrrha suspects is more chocolate chips.

“What have you been doing every other time I’ve asked you to remove yourself from the chocolate chip bag?” She turns and puts her hands on her hips, fixing him with a scowl that’s more playful than anything.

Jaune slowly lifts his hand and deposits another several chocolate chips into his mouth, grinning widely when her scowl deepens. “I’m not gonna eat ‘em  _ all _ , Pyrrha!” he protests. “I’m saving some for the cookies! Promise!”

She pads over and picks up the bag, then shakes it at him. “This doesn’t sound like saving chocolate chips,” she accuses, teasing.

Jaune offers her a chocolate chip instead of answering, eyes big and blue and pleading with her to take it. She puts the bag of chocolate chips down and takes the one he’s offering her, popping it into her mouth as she turns back to the mixing bowl.

“Come over here and help me,” she instructs, and Jaune trails after her, only to slide his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder as he leans against her back. “I said help, not cuddle,” Pyrrha says, shaking her head.

“I am helping,” Jaune says. “I’m keeping you warm.”

“It’s plenty warm in here already,” Pyrrha protests, but makes no move to shake him off. He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then her jaw, and starts to kiss her neck before she actually does shake him off. “ _ Jaune _ !” she squeaks, face red.

He laughs and darts away before she can catch him again.


	4. "Is that my shirt?" - Junior/Roman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by RogueWolf

Junior does a double take when he comes back to his bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Roman… Is that my shirt?” he asks the man on his bed.

Roman puts a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “Well, yes,” he says, motioning to the cartoon bear on the breast of the t-shirt he has on. The shirt drowns him.

“Wear your own clothing, you thief,” Junior says, all mock accusation and affection, and digs through his dresser for a new pajama shirt.

“I would, if I’d have known this was going to be an overnight endeavor,” Roman replies, voice too warm to be sharp. “Mayhap next time warn me ahead of time you want me to spend the night.” Junior shuts the dresser drawer with a snap and steps back into his bathroom to finish brushing his teeth.

When he returns, Roman is still sitting on his bed, and Junior is still shirtless. Junior climbs onto the bed, kisses Roman, and slides his hands under the shirt he’s wearing. Roman lets out a little “ooh!” and kisses back enthusiastically.

Junior slides his hands up, and up, and up, dragging the shirt with him as he goes. He pulls away to tug the shirt over Roman’s head--and then puts it on himself. “This shirt is my favorite, and I wanted to wear it,” he says, and gets up to get Roman a new one.

“You are incorrigible. Terrible. Horrible. A tease!” Roman wails behind him. Junior throws the replacement shirt at his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” Junior replies. “Heard all that before. Put on the shirt and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” Roman says grumpily. He pulls on the shirt and burrows under the blankets, facing away from Junior. “I despise you.”

“No you don’t,” Junior corrects, crawling into bed behind him and pressing himself close to Roman’s back.

“...No, I don’t,” Roman agrees, after a moment, settling against the other. Junior kisses his shoulder.


	5. "You can trust me." - IronQrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“Aw, c’mon, Jimmy!” Qrow wheedles, tugging on James’ sleeve.

“James. And absolutely not,” James replies flatly. “What on Remnant gives you the idea you can watch over Penny  _ and _ Ruby _ and _ her teammates  _ and _ another team?”

Qrow scowls. “I’m  _ a teacher _ , Jim,” he reminds. “At Signal. I handle more kids younger than all of them nearly every day.”

Right. James had forgotten that, if momentarily, because Qrow had not been teaching while he was on his weeks-long mission where he didn’t talk to him, or Ozpin, or any of them. “Could have fooled me,” he says instead.

“You’re an ass,” Qrow interjects sourly. “You can trust me, Jimbo.”

“James,” James corrects for the second time in less than ten minutes. “I’m starting to see otherwise.” He glances pointedly at the flask in Qrow’s hand. Qrow watches James watch the flask as he takes a long pull from it.

“Just because you’ve never seen me teach doesn’t mean I can’t do it,” Qrow points out, gesturing with his flask. The liquid left in it sloshes noisily.

James lets out a long sigh through his nose. “And remind me  _ why _ you want to look after Penny while you watch Ruby and her other friends?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Penny is Ruby’s friend too.” Qrow puts his flask away and crosses his arms. “You won’t have to worry about Penny if she’s with Ruby. They stay out of trouble.”

“Are you sure about that? Because I know of a totaled delivery truck Atlas military paid to replace that says otherwise.” James folds his arms behind his back.

“Plus, it’s not really  _ watching over _ like I’m babysitting, Jim. It’s closer to  _ chaperoning _ them, because they’re nearly adults. I’ll be the  _ professional huntsman _ accompanying them while they’re out and about today,” Qrow says, sneering. “And Penny counts as nearly adult, because she’s built to look and act seventeen, ain’t she?”

James nods stiffly. “She is,” he agrees.

“So trust me,” Qrow insists, slinging an arm around James’ back. “You’ve put up with me for how long now, and you’re still unwilling to let me look after the botling?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” James starts, shoulders tense.

“It’s that you worry about P-money. I get it.” Qrow pats James’ back. “Look. I’ll cut you a deal, Jammies.”

“ _ James _ ,” James insists, more forcefully than before. “It depends on what the deal is.”

“Let Penny hang out with Ruby and her team and her friends today, and if I bring her back safe and sound, I get to make a roost in your office. If I don’t, I’ll stop leaving feathers in your office when I preen--no, I still wanna do that. I’ll stop aiming for your head when I shit in the air.”

“ _ Qrow _ ,” James snaps.

“I’ll stop bringing you garbage and claiming it’s treasure?”

“Qrow.”

“I’ll stop trying to steal your fingers when you take off your glove.”

“Qrow, I swear--”

“All right, all right, I’ll stop trying to make a hair in your nest--I mean nest in your hair.”

“Qrow!” James roars.

“You know all of those were jokes, right?” Qrow asks after a moment of silence between both of them.

“I’m well aware,” James says carefully. “Just…” He pauses and puts a gloved knuckle to his chin. “I’m not sure I’m ready to let Penny go somewhere unsupervised.”

“She won’t be,” Qrow reminds him. “I’ll be there.”

“She might as well be,” James grumbles. He sighs for a second time, long and loud, and then says, “Penny can spend time with Ruby as long as you promise to keep her safe  _ and _ stop leaving feathers in my office.”

Qrow frowns for a moment, and then says. “Okay, fine. No more feathers.”

James seems to relax almost immediately, and Qrow would not have noticed if he didn’t still have his arm around him. “Thank you,” he says, and drops a kiss on the top of Qrow’s head.


	6. "Let me help you." - Bumbleby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

Yang lets her head hit her textbook. “This is so frustrating!” she growls. “Why do we have to learn this, it has literally nothing to do with being a huntress!”

Across the table, Weiss lets out what can only be called a long-suffering sigh. “It has  _ everything _ to do with being a huntress, Yang. How are you supposed to make your living if you can’t negotiate deals, do your own financing, or even do simple math?” she explains.

“Uh, I hire someone else to do it for me?” Yang replies, lifting her head from her book.

“And get yourself ripped off and stolen from? Absolutely not,” Weiss says, all but turning up her nose at her teammate. “See, even Ruby gets it-- _ Ruby _ !” the heiress snaps at her partner, who--instead of doing homework--is doodling on scrap paper.

Blake leans over to see what Yang is talking about, and Yang lifts her arm to let her teammate look. “That’s easy,” Blake says over the sound of Weiss scolding Ruby and Ruby defending herself.

“For you, maybe,” Yang grumbles. “It’s hard as shit for me.”

“Let me help you, then. I can show you how to do it.” Blake tilts her head and blinks slowly at her partner.

“I mean, if you think you can explain it to me.” Yang pushes her notebook down the table to Blake with one hand and props her chin on the other.

Blake picks up her pen and starts talking and making notes on Yang’s notebook, and as she goes on, Yang finds herself understanding. Blake grins and slides Yang’s notebook back to her. “Do you understand now?” she asks.

“Hey, I think I do!” Yang replies, excited. “Thanks, Blake!” She throws an arm around her partner and squeezes her in close with a laugh.


	7. "Caught in a storm" + "Will you marry me?" - Arkos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Separate prompts requested by bpdpyrrhanikos/baguettewarrior (same person) I was given permission to combine.

Pyrrha can’t help but giggle as Jaune opens his shield and held it above both of their heads. “It wasn’t supposed to  _ rain _ ,” he whines.

“I don’t mind,” Pyrrha assures him, curling an arm around his waist and pressing close to stay under his shield. “Rain is nice!” Lightning flickers.

Thunder crashes, and Jaune lets out a tiny squeak, then clears his throat, ears red. Pyrrha kisses his temple. “Storms are nice too,” she reassures him.

“I had stuff  _ planned _ for today,” Jaune says, exasperated. “We were going to go to go sit in Beacon’s courtyard and have a picnic and…” he trails off abruptly and takes a deep breath. His cheeks are pink now too.

Pyrrha pets his side. “We can take a rain check!” she suggests. Jaune lets his shoulders slump.

“I mean, I guess we can go somewhere else,” he says, wilting. “I just really wanted it to be there.” Pyrrha tilted her head.

“Was there a specific reason for the courtyard?” she asked. Jaune tensed and shook his head.

“No, I--” His voice cracked. “I just. Thought the courtyard would be nice today. Guess I was wrong.”

Pyrrha shrugs. “It was nice this morning!” she says. “And I think it’s nice now, Jaune. Honestly, it’s probably because I’m with you.”

Jaune takes a deep breath, lets it out, and then takes another deep breath. “Pyrrha, can you--um. Can you hold my shield?” he asks, voice tight. Pyrrha gives him a quizzical look, but takes it from him anyways and holds it above herself with one hand. His shoulders are tense, and Pyrrha thinks if they were set any higher they’d be touching his ears. Jaune’s  _ nervous _ .

He jams his hands in his pockets and turns away from her. “...Jaune?” she tries, wary. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” he squeaks. “Yeah.” His voice sounds more natural this time. “Everything’s fine--everything’s great. I just wanted, to, uh.” He sighs, squares his shoulders, and turns around. She can see the nerves behind the determination in his eyes. “Pyrrha, every day I wonder to myself  _ why pick me _ when you had to teach me how to hold my own sword right.”

Pyrrha’s eyes fill with tears.

“I wanted the courtyard because Goodwitch wouldn’t let us on the balcony outside the ballroom,” he admits. “I thought it would be perfect, but she said no because then  _ everyone would want to do this, Mr. Arc, and we can’t have that constant traffic _ .” He mimics the professor’s voice. “So the courtyard was the next best thing.”

“Jaune, are you--”

“Please let me finish or I’m never gonna get the courage again,” Jaune interrupts her. He bites his lip. “Sorry.” His shoulders are already soaked from the rain. Lightning flashes again.

A tear slips out of Pyrrha’s eye and slides down her cheek. Jaune watches it, eyes widening.

“Pyrrha… I…” He looks at the ground, scuffs at a puddle, and then holds out his hand. “Sorry it’s not in one of those fancy boxes. I thought that make it too obvious,” he admits. 

Jaune uncurls trembling fingers. A ring is sitting in his palm. Pyrrha chokes back a sob and covers her mouth with her free hand. “Will you marry me?” he asks quietly.

Pyrrha drops his shield. It falls behind them with a clatter that matches the roll of thunder overhead and Jaune can see it retract into sheath form after its first bounce on the sidewalk. “Yes,” she whispers, and lets him slide the ring onto her finger.

“Jaune,” she says, a moment later, breathless from kissing him. “That was my right hand.”


	8. "A 'Hope We Don't Get Caught' Kiss" - Portbleck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“Doctor Dadbleck, hm?” Peter corners him by the staircase. “Didn’t know you were a father,” he says, dragging Bart down by his tie to kiss him.

“Peter!” Bart snickers, kissing Peter again. They still have five minutes before Bart’s class starts. “It’s what one of our students decided to call me,” he explains. Peter kisses his jaw, and then down his neck. “Miss Valkyrie decided I was Dadbleck, since I called her ‘my child’ while explaining the essay I assigned my class to her and her partner more in depth, and instead of telling her off--you rascal, we’re in  _ public _ \--I merely said it was  _ Doctor _ Dadbleck.”

Peter sets one hand on Bart’s waist and cups his cheek with the other when he pulls back. His expression is soft and Bart’s cheeks and ears are flushed “Still,” Peter says. “Didn’t know you were a father.” He raises a generous eyebrow, and Bart laughs.

“If I wasn’t before I certainly am now. Judging by the nature of Miss Valkyrie’s teammates, they’ll have the whole class calling me Doctor Dadbleck before the week is out, I guarantee you!” He drops his arms to Peter’s shoulders. The smile in the shorter teacher’s eyes is hard to resist, though Bart knows he should disengage and head for his classroom; he’s cutting it even closer than he was when Peter cornered him.

“What would that make me, then, hm?” Peter purrs, stretching up to kiss him again.

A sharp “Oops!” and the sound of Miss Nikos valiantly herding her teammates away from the staircase causes the teachers to jump away from each other, faces burning like caught teenagers.

Bart fiddles with his tie. “I suppose this means I should head to my classroom to avoid further, ah...” he trails. Peter nudges him in a firm  _ go ahead _ and lets him free.

“So,” Miss Valkyrie says when he arrives, looking up from her already begun page of doodles for the class. “If you’re Doctor Dadbleck, does that make Professor Port…” she pauses for dramatic effect and slices a wicked grin at him. “Professor  _ Pops _ ?”

Bart’s face burns.


	9. "Can you shut up!?" - IronQrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by RogueWolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of what qrow calls jimbo is thanks to the IronQrow Decimation Squad skype chat.

“So…” Qrow leans on James’ desk, grin ironically catlike and showing sharp canines. He runs his tongue over said canines.

“Yes?” James flicks his eyes up from the paperwork he was finishing. He sighs through his nose upon seeing Qrow’s expression and puts his pen down.

Qrow tilts his head. “So,” he says again. “About last night.” His smile turns cat-got-the-canary, and James feels himself begin to worry.

James presses his lips into a thin line and steeples his hands in front of him. “What  _ about  _ last night?” he presses.

“James ‘ _ The Iron Rooster _ ’ Ironwood.” Qrow gestures with the hand not propping him up on the desk, swishing an arc like he’s displaying a billboard. James unsteeples his hands to put his face in them. “The Copper Rooster.”

James lifts his head from his hands. “There may be copper wiring in my cybernetics, Qrow, but I am not--”

“Mainly copper anywhere, yeah, I know. Weapons expert, remember?” He hooks a thumb at himself. His grin hasn’t faded. “Copper’s for conducting electricity. And let me tell you, last night was  _ electric _ .”

Oh, great.  _ Puns _ .

“Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, Winter will be here any moment to collect this; it needs to go to Lieutenant Doré as soon as possible.” James moves to pick his pen up again.

“Lieutenant Doré? In Linguistics?” Qrow asks. James nods once. “She’s cute.” James cuts his gaze back to Qrow, who is now examining his nails. Upon noticing the glare, he says, “What? I’m just making an aesthetic observation. I’m allowed to look at the menu as long as I don’t order, ain’t I?”

James puts his pen down again. “First of all,” he starts. “Comparing Lieutenant Doré to  _ food _ ? How much more crass can you get, Qrow?” He frowns. Qrow straightens up, taking his weight off James’ desk. “Second of all, I would appreciate if you didn’t make  _ aesthetic observations _ about other people in front of the person with whom you had a sexual encounter which I  _ assume _ you hope to repeat.”

Qrow puts his hands up defensively. “Okay, okay, slow down there, Metalmeat.”

James sputters. “ _ Excuse me _ ?” And in the moment it takes for him to gather his wits again, Qrow’s smirk is back.

“I’m sorry, would you prefer  _ Terminator _ ?” Qrow asks, amusement so thick it could be cut with a dull knife.

James rolls his eyes and picks up his pen again. “I would prefer being called my name,” he says.  _ Why do I enjoy spending my free time with this man, _ he thinks, not for the first time since they began to date.

“You mean Jimmy?” Qrow teases.

“I mean  _ James _ ,” James asserts. He picks his pen up for what he assures himself will be the last time before he finishes this paperwork and starts filling out again.

“Hey, Jimmy.” Qrow bends so he’s directly in James’ peripheral vision and props his chin in his hands and his elbows on the desk. James can only imagine the way he’s sticking his backside out and fights the urge to roll his eyes. “What does the robot do on a one night stand?”

James does roll his eyes this time. “What does the robot do?” he deadpans, hoping it gets Qrow to let him finish the paperwork.

“It nuts and bolts!” Qrow laughs like he’s proud of himself.

“Are you finished?” James asks, marking another box on the papers in front of him and initialing next to another paragraph. Just one more to go.

The door opens behind Qrow. Winter slips in, and as she opens her mouth to speak, Qrow says, “Aw, whassamatter,  _ Steelcock _ , am I bothering you?” in a simpering, saccharine tone.

Winter’s posture goes rigid.

James goes red from the neck up. “Can you  _ shut up _ ?” he growls at Qrow. “Winter,” he addresses behind Qrow. “I’m almost through with this, and then you can have it.”

She snaps a stiff salute and says, “Yes, sir!”

Qrow blinks at him. “How long has she been here?” he asks, eyes narrowing. He doesn’t straighten up to look at her, but instead looks at her over his shoulder and waggles his rear.

Winter glares. “I happened to hear your  _ Steel _ comment,” she says, unamused. Qrow smirks.

“You know that’s not just a play on his na--”

“Qrow. That’s enough,” James interrupts, putting the cap on his pen. He slides the paperwork into a nondescript manila folder and stands. Winter approaches him, hand out to take it. “When you drop this off with Liona, give her my congratulations on her engagement.”

“Will do, sir. I’ll pass it along to Ms. Bourgogne as well if I see her,” Winter says, nodding once. “Should I take care of…” She glances pointedly at Qrow.

“No, but thank you.” James fixes his gaze on Qrow once the folder is in Winter’s grasp. “I’ll see to him myself.”


	10. Seamonkeys - admitting feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“So, what would you do if one of your teammates had the hots for ya?” Yang props her chin on her fist and leers across the table at Sun.

“I dunno, dude,” he replies around a mouthful of fruit. “Why you askin’? Want advice?” He sneers, and Yang flushes angrily.

“I don’t need advice from you, Mr. Oblivious,” she snaps. “I did well enough on my own.”

“Huh,” Sun says, stabbing his fork through a slice of strawberry. “Thought Blake liked guys.”

“She does,” Yang replies, tone haughty. “She just likes me better.” She reaches across the table and snags a blueberry from his plate. “But still. I’ve been asked to ask you. What if someone on your team had the hots for you?”

Sun pauses. “ _Does_ someone on my team have the hots for me?” he asks, squinting at her. Yang shrugs and steals another blueberry.

“Maybe,” she says, scrutinizing the second blueberry before popping it into her mouth with the first. “I dunno. That wasn’t disclosed to me. I was just told to ask.”

“By who?” Sun sets the fork down and swats her hand away when she goes for another blueberry.

“It’s a secret.” She hooks a thumb over her shoulder as if saying _they’re over there_ and when Sun, distracted by the motion, looks, she steals a third blueberry.

“Stop taking my food!” he whines once he notices. Yang bites the blueberry in half and stick her tongue out at him.

“Answer my question,” she replies, tone mimicking his. “What would you do if someone on your team _liked_ you-liked you?”

“It… depends on who it is, actually,” Sun says slowly. His tail curls around his upper arm. “I have no interest in Sage or Scarlet--no offense to either of them.”

The grin that curls Yang’s mouth scares him. “Cool,” she says. “So, say it were Nap Tuna.” She props her chin on her fist again. “What would you do?”

Sun makes a quip in South Vacuan.

“What was that?” Yang says, cupping a hand around her ear. “I don’t speak any Vacuan.”

Sun shovels fruit into his mouth so he doesn’t have to answer.

Yang rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me the ‘my mouth is full’ crap. You already talk with your mouth full. I’m not gonna run off and _tell_ anyone.”

“Fine, jeez,” Sun mutters. “I’d tell him that I liked him too. Happy?”

Yang’s scary grin is back. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and whistles shrilly. The cafeteria goes quiet a moment, and then the chatter starts back up. Neptune slinks up, and does a double take at Sun. “You said you wouldn’t do that if he was still here!” he hisses.

“I lied,” Yang singsongs.

“I don’t like you anymore,” Neptune says. Sun snorts. “Okay that’s a lie.”

“ _Any_ ways,” Yang says, tossing her hair. “You two have a nice chat.” She winks. Neptune flushes all the way up to his hairline.

Sun waits until Yang is out of earshot. “So… you’re the one that, and I quote, _has the hots for me_.” He gestures with his fork. Neptune flushes brighter.

“Yep!” he squeaks. “How ironic is it that the ladies’ man of the team likes… men?”

Sun laughs. “It’s not ironic at all, dude. You’re shit with ladies.” Neptune frowns. “Plus, you like the ladies too, right?”

Neptune makes a vague gesture. “Kinda?” he says. “Not as much as I…” he trails off into unintelligibility and stares intently at the grain of the table.

“You wanna go on a date?” Sun asks, in a fleeting moment of bravado. Neptune snaps his head up to look at Sun, eyes wide.

“Uh--I mean, if you want--I, yeah! No--I mean--I’d like that, yeah!” Neptune babbles, face reddening all over again.

Sun grins. “Cool,” he says, voice warm.


	11. IronQrow - One of them is sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place in Anipendragon's Public Eye-verse.

When James can finally peel his eyes open, Qrow is sitting on the bed next to him, Scroll in hand and in a call. “Qrow? What time ‘s’it?” James rasps, voice slurred. He starts to sit up.

“Hey, whoa,” Qrow says, reaching out with his free hand to push him back down. “Slow down there, honey.” He tugs the blanket up on James’ right side and then runs his knuckles over James’ cheekbone. “Look who’s awake,” Qrow addresses the person on the other end of the scroll.

“How is he?” the woman asks. Qrow turns to him as he curls onto his side to let out a series of forceful, honking coughs that trail off into a pained wheeze.

“I think that explains it.” Qrow rubs at his shoulder, and then when James rolls back onto his back, Qrow brushes his hair off his forehead.

“I feel terrible,” James croaks. Qrow runs his fingers through his hair.

“No worries, I was just calling to confirm the interview for later today, but we can postpone it until you’re feeling better, General,” the voice on the Scroll says.

“Thanks, Mabel,” Qrow says. “I think that’d be best.” The scroll disconnects as the reporter hangs up, and Qrow slides the scroll shut and leans over James to set it down on his bedside.

“We had an inter--view today?” James’ voice cracks and squeaks, and he sits up to cough again.

Qrow’s mouth twists into a moue of concern. “We did, but you kept waking up to cough, so when Mabel Greens called your Scroll a little bit ago to confirm like she said I told her you got sick.” He runs his fingers through James’ hair again, presses on his scalp a bit, and James leans into the touch without realizing what he’s doing.

“So no interview today.” James lets his eyes close again. Qrow’s hand leaves his hair and his eyes flutter right back open.

“Yep. How’s your throat?” he asks, shifting to leave the bed. “Cuz if it hurts I have a miracle cure for you.”

“Throat hurts,” James says. “But you don’t have to do anything--”

Qrow interrupts him with loud “Nah nah nah nah”s until he falls quiet. “You’re my husband.” Qrow grins. James has to fight remind him they aren’t actually married. “I  _ want _ to take care of you while you’re sick,” he says sweetly.

James takes a deep breath to sigh and coughs it out instead, and then presses fingers to his temple when the room spins. Qrow slides off the bed and pads out of the room, already humming an upbeat song under his breath.

Qrow’s humming turns to singing as soon as he’s out of the room, and James recognizes the song with a roll of his eyes.  _ Samurai Orgy Bash _ , of course. He’s had to hear a lot of it since this fiasco started and Qrow relaxed. He wonders if Qrow likes them just to antagonize him.

James doesn’t realize he’s dozed off until Qrow is shaking him gently awake with a hand to his left shoulder. “Hey, miracle cure is ready,” he says. James sits up slowly, and Qrow hands him a warm mug.

When James glances at the contents of the mug he furrows his eyebrows. It isn’t even a third of the way full. Qrow seems to read his expression. “That’s enough for you, trust me. I make myself a full mug, but you don’t need  _ that _ much.”

“What is it?” James croaks.

“Try it,” Qrow says instead.

“Do you make this for Ruby or Yang?” James asks, suspicious and trying to suss out what it is in the mug. Qrow laughs instead of answering, and then looks at him expectantly.

He sniffs at the mug and jolts at how the smell cuts through his stuffed nose and seems to settle itself right in his sinuses. “Is this  _ whiskey _ ?” he asks, voice squeaking hoarsely.

“Try it,” Qrow says again, more forcefully this time. “I swear on all the alcohol I’ve snuck into your place it will help your throat.”

James sips. The whiskey is warm and thick, and he can taste both honey and lemon in it. It coats his throat and stings for a moment before it numbs the ache.

“It worked, didn’t it?” Qrow asks, suddenly smug. James nods slowly. “The whiskey numbs the hurt, the honey does the soothing, and the lemon is for extra Vitamin C,” he explains.

“I’m gonna ask again, do you make this for Ruby or Yang?” James looks at Qrow over the rim of the mug.

“Nah.” Qrow shakes his head. “I might when they get older, but nah. I’m irresponsible, yeah, but not  _ that _ irresponsible.” James huffs. “What? I can admit flaws.”

“They’re usually not your own, though,” James says, finishing off the contents of the mug. He’s warm and wants to doze off again, and the two fingers of whiskey, as supplemented as it was with honey and lemon, doesn’t help a bit. “Do you really make yourself an entire mug of this?” he hears himself asking.

“Why, you want more?” Qrow asks, gently taking the mug from his loosening grip and setting it with a soft clink on the bedside table next to his scroll.

“Maybe later,” James says, sliding back to lay down again.

“Tired?” Qrow asks, laugh audible in his voice. James nods. “Go back to sleep, Jim.” He tugs the blanket back up over James’ shoulders and strokes his hair. “I’ll be here to wait on you hand and foot when you wake up.”


	12. Bumbleby & Crime Dads - Bumbleby has a date at Junior's club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“Aren’t we too young to be here?” Blake asks, tugging nervously on a lock of her hair.

Yang grins at her. “I know the guy who runs the place. He likes me.” Blake gives her a flat look, and Yang slides her arm around Blake’s shoulders. “Promise he does. We’ve only fought once.”

“ _ Only _ once,” Blake repeats drily, nerves forgotten. Yang winks. The doors slide open. Henchfolk turn and look at the two in the doorway. One of them goes rigid and scurries off, and Blake narrows her eyes at Yang. “I thought you said he liked you.”

“He does!” Yang insists, leading Blake into the club and up to the bar. “Hey, Junior,” she drawls.

The man at the bar’s shoulders droop. “Hello, Blondie,” he says, voice long-suffering. “Who’s this?” He motions at Blake.

Yang brightens. “This is my--”

“Teammate,” Blake interjects, cheeks flushing. Her bow twitches, and she narrows her eyes at Junior when he looks at her over red tinted sunglasses.

“You know Blondie brought you here on a Thursday, right?” he asks. Blake has to fight to not fold one of her ears back in confusion. “Thursday is LGBT night.” Junior motions out at the rest of the club.

“What does that have to do with me?” Blake asks, voice sharp.

“We all know Yang’s a lesbian. She doesn’t keep it a secret,” a girl at the bar says. She has her chin propped on her hand and her elbow on the bar. “She wouldn’t have brought you to LGBT Night if it wasn’t a date.” Blake feels herself go scarlet.

“Melanie,” Junior says, just this side of horrified.

“What, Dad, it’s  _ true _ .” The girl shrugs. The girl on Melanie’s other side laughs. She still manages to sound bored. “Where’s Neo? She was supposed to get here a few minutes ago.”

Junior shrugs. “Ask her,” he says, and then turns back to Yang and Blake when Melanie pulls out her Scroll. “Daughters,” he says, conversationally. “What can I get you? Anything, Blondie?”

“Get me a Nine Lives,” Yang says. “And make sure it has an umbrella.”

“That one doesn’t usually  _ get  _ an umbrella,” Junior replies, but he digs under the bar and produces a tiny purple paper umbrella. “This one good?” Yang nods. Junior makes the drink and slides it across the bar to Yang. “What about you?” he asks Blake.

“Um,” Blake says, blinking at him. Yang starts whispering drink names in her ear. “A Bee Stinger?” Junior nods at her, once, and then makes that drink too.

“If you don’t like it let me know and I’ll make you a new one.” Junior slides the glass across the bar to her, and Blake stares into the drink. This time she can’t help her ears swiveling back a bit.

“What are you doing here?” A too-familiar voice rings out over the thumping bass of the music. Blake whirls, and her eyes narrow.

“We’re on a  _ date _ ,” Yang interjects smoothly. Blake hides her blush by trying her drink. “What are  _ you _ doing here?” She grips her glass and leans against the bar too-casually.

“I came to visit my  _ husband _ ,” Roman says, voice haughty. “At work.” He steps between them and leans across the bar, nudging Yang’s elbow out of the way. “Hello, Junior,” he says.

She didn’t think Junior could look any more long-suffering, but he does.

“No hello kiss for me, your darling husband who has been away for a week?” Roman pouts. Junior rolls his eyes, but leans forward across the bar to meet Roman halfway, smiling gently. Blake looks away.

“Oh my god,  _ gross _ ,” Yang says.

“Right?” Melanie says, not sounding bored for the first time since Blake has heard her speak.

“They’re so affectionate, it’s disgusting,” her twin agrees. “What do you mean _you_ _think it’s sweet_ ,” she says suddenly, and Blake almost jolts to see Neo Politan standing on the twins’ other side. Neo’s hands move, and the other girl scoffs. “Pining doesn’t make it _sweet_. It’s still gross. They’re our _dads_!”

“Yang, can we go somewhere else?” Blake asks, tugging on Yang’s sleeve.

“Oh, sure. Do you wanna go sit down somewhere?” Yang drops her arm around Blake’s shoulders again. Blake nods, and Yang leads her to one of the smaller tables around the perimeter of the dance floor. “This good?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Blake says, sliding into one of the seats. “How did you find this place anyways?”

Yang shrugs. “Heard Junior had info about lots of people. No big deal. Turned out to be a pretty cool guy once I got to know him.”

“He’s like, twice our age.” Blake sips at her drink. It’s sharp, but not in a bad way. Blake should have figured that Yang would find the only club in Vale willing to give them alcoholic drinks. Maybe it’s because Yang is--supposedly--friends with the man who runs the club. Yang grins at her and sips her own drink.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a good friend who happens to have helpful information, does it?” She props her elbow on the table. Blake shakes her head. “So,” Yang says, moments later. “Wanna dance?”

Blake shrugs. “Maybe when we finish our drinks?” she suggests.

Yang takes a long pull of her drink. “Sounds good to me,” she says. “Do you like your drink?” she asks next, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” Blake says, letting her surprise color her tone. “I like it.” She trails a finger around the rim of the glass and looks up at Yang through her lashes. Yang’s expression is soft, her eyes warm.

“Good,” Yang says. “I’m glad.” She drops her hand to the table, and Blake reaches out. Laces their fingers. Yang lifts their hands and kisses Blake’s knuckles, and then trails kisses along the side of her hand and up to her wrist.

“Yang,” Blake says, cheeks heating. She glances out at the rest of the club. Oh, right. LGBT Night. If anyone would notice Yang’s affection, nobody would care.

Her eyes find the bar again. Roman is sitting at the bar, nearly sprawled halfway across and if Blake could tell from just the back of his head, looking lovey-dovey at Junior. The twins and Neo have disappeared.

“Blake,” Yang says. When Blake turns her attention back to her date, Yang pulls her in across the tiny table and cups her cheek with a yellow hand. The metal is cool against her skin. “Thanks for coming out with me.”

The two are close enough that Blake can smell the alcohol and pineapple juice on Yang’s breath as it washes over her lips. She wants nothing more than to close the gap and kiss Yang.

So she does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Yang's drink](http://www.completecocktails.com/Drinks/9Lives.aspx#.Vvm3W_krLIX)
> 
> [Blake's drink](http://www.completecocktails.com/Drinks/BeeStinger.aspx#.Vvm5JvkrLIW)
> 
> Find me on [tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	13. Arkos - Things you said while I was crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the only mostly-immediately post-finale anything you’ll ever get out of me tbh and even now it’s Nobody Dies AU (note c/p from tumblr)

“What happened?” Jaune rushes into the room, trying not to show how terrified at the scene in front of him. “Pyrrha, are you okay?” he asks, taking the scissors from one of her hands and her ponytail from the other. The bandages strapped to her chest need changing; they’re starting to bleed through.

“I--” Pyrrha pauses, eyes wide and wet with tears. “I panicked,” she whispers.

“Okay,” Jaune says, setting the scissors on the bedside table and dropping her ponytail in the garbage can on top of old bandages. Her hair falls around her face, uneven and choppy. “Okay.” He brushes her bangs out of her eyes, gently tips her chin up. “Do you know why?”

A tear slips out and slides down her cheek. Jaune thumbs it away. “I,” she says. She hiccups a sob. “She grabbed my hair when I got close enough. I keep remembering. I don’t want it to happen again.”

“Where did you get the scissors?” he asks, cupping her cheek.

“Neptune brought them,” Pyrrha admits, casting her eyes away. “I c-called him. I’m sorry.” Jaune brings up his other hand and cups her other cheek.

“Do you want your hair shorter than this?” he asks. Pyrrha nods and pulls her face out of his hands, eyebrows knitting together. Her shoulders are tense. “Okay.” He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to her head. “Let’s get your bandages changed and then I’ll help you out.”

“I love you,” she says, voice cracking.

Jaune pages a nurse to help change her bandages, and then sits next to her and takes her hand in his. Pyrrha’s shoulders relax.

“I love you too,” he says, after the nurse leaves. “And it’s not. Yknow, post-battle relief. Or an  _ I almost lost you _ thing. Or anything like that. I mean,” his voice cracks, almost a perfect mirror of hers before. “I almost  _ did _ lose you and that helped me realize, but I. I think I loved you for a long time before that.” He smiles at her, and she smiles back, small and watery. “That makes sense, right?”

She nods.

“Good. Now let’s get your hair fixed up. How short do you want it?” he asks, leaning to pick up the scissors from the bedside table.

“As short as you can get it,” she says, voice firm despite its wavering. He shifts to climb onto the bed behind her, and she twists to kiss him.

He makes a noise of shock, but melts into it, hand dropping to her waist. She pulls back just enough to murmur, “Thank you, Jaune,” against his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	14. Portbleck - Things you said after it was over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Roguewolfprints

“I shouldn’t have yelled.” Peter’s voice is soft and everything about him, for once, looks small. Bart stares. “Barty, I am so sorry.”

It’s been several hours since their argument–not their first, but their biggest. Their most intense. Not a single other thing has scared Bart for his and Peter’s relationship like this argument had.

“I–I said things I shouldn’t have as well,” he admits. “We were angry.” He doesn’t meet Peter’s eyes.

“That’s no excuse,” Peter says, voice still uncharacteristically soft. “Not on either of us.” Bart’s mismatched eyes meet Peter’s then.

“You’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry, too, Peter.”

Peter smiles, holds out his hand. Bart takes his hand, and covers his mouth with his other to hide a smile when Peter kisses each and every one of his knuckles. He lets his smile go free when Peter kisses along his hand, and then laughs brightly when Peter presses loud, smacking kisses up his arm, tugging Bart down to his level as he goes.

Peter cups Bart’s face in his hands. “Am I forgiven?” he asks.

“Of course. Am I?” Bart replies.

“Yes,” Peter says, rubbing thumbs over Bart’s cheekbones. “Of course you are.” One hand shifts, rests against the back of Bart’s neck. Peter’s thumb rubs over the corner of his jaw now. “By God, I love you.”

Bart kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need to write longer portbleck tbh
> 
> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	15. Crime Dads - Things you said too quietly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Roguewolfprints

“I’m in love with you,” Junior says, as he hands Roman’s drink across the bar. He says it quietly enough that Roman would have had to been straining to hear it over the pounding bass. Roman can obviously tell that Junior has said  _ something _ , because he raises an eyebrow as he curls his hand around his glass.

Junior shakes his head. Roman narrows his eyes, lifts his drink to his lips. Junior busies himself with reorganizing the shaker and the ice scoop and the glasses he has stashed behind the bar and the bottles of rum and vodka and liqueur and whiskey and grenadine and fruit juices so he doesn’t have to look at Roman.

He sees the shift of movement out of the corner of his eye and realizes that Roman has perched himself at the bar instead of flitting off to finish his drink elsewhere, as is usual. “What else do you need?” Junior asks, pushing his voice loud enough that Roman can hear him this time.

“You seemed as though you were starting a conversation,” Roman says, propping his chin on the back of his hand with a smirk. “Indulge me.”

Junior tugs a highball glass towards himself, drops ice shards in it, and pours a finger of whiskey in it. He shouldn’t be drinking while he’s bartending, but if he’s going to talk to Roman like this-- _ about _ this--he feels he needs it. If only for the liquid courage people claim it is. “Indulge you  _ how _ ,” he replies, cautious.

“What were you saying?” Roman asks.

The whiskey in Junior’s mouth goes down sharper than it usually does. His throat feels like fire. “Nothing,” he tries, voice hoarse. “I was just talking to myself.” That isn’t a lie, Junior tells himself. In fact, he’s not even sure why he said what he said--aside from the urge to just  _ say it _ even if it meant Roman didn’t hear, still didn’t know.

“Sure,” Roman says, clearly disbelieving and just as amused.

Junior feels a spark of annoyance at Roman’s flippant attitude but squashes it down. Roman doesn’t know what he’s being pushy about. Roman doesn’t know that Junior muttered a confession of love at him, knowing it wouldn’t be heard over the music in his club.

A small niggling thought in the back of his head makes him wonder if Roman can read lips. Roman’s grin widens in a way that isn’t quite wicked but definitely feels it. Junior files away the tilt of Roman’s mouth on first his left side and then his right away into the part of his mind he saves for  _ things that make him fall a little bit more in love with Roman Torchwick _ . Just like the freckles spread over his skin like galaxies. Just like the way Roman won’t smoke in Junior’s apartment to the point of hanging his head and shoulders out the window just for half a cigar.

He takes another swallow of whiskey. Thinks to himself  _ I love this man _ .

“So will you tell me what you said?” Roman prods, swirling the slice of pineapple on the plastic toothpick around his glass. Junior shakes his head. “What about over dinner?”

Junior freezes.

“We’ve been fucking too long for it to just be  _ casual _ anymore, Baby Bear.” Roman drags the speared pineapple out of his drink and sticks it between his teeth.

_ Shit _ .

Roman looks at Junior through his lashes. “Fine, we’ll go to dinner,” Junior says. “On one condition.” Roman raises his eyebrows, draws the toothpick from the pineapple and sets it on the bar. “Don’t call me Baby Bear again.”

Roman laughs, and Junior falls even more in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended up getting away from me.
> 
> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	16. Ironqrow - "Shut up, I am a delight!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

The Vytal Festival.

Qrow could get to Vale with time to spare. He could report to Ozpin and get to watch the matches. Spend time with his nieces. Hopefully see James.

He really hopes he gets to see James.

It’s been weeks–but Qrow has done his best to keep in contact. (Something in the back of his mind tells him that he’s not usually _good_ at keeping contact with people, especially on missions, but the rest of him brushes it aside.)

James has said multiple times he’d be at the festival. Of course he would; he’s the headmaster of Atlas, he has students–but the headmasters of Haven and Shade weren’t coming, to Qrow’s knowledge.

“Qrow?”

Qrow _does_ get to see James after all. And Penny, too. “Hey, kiddo,” he says, ruffling Penny’s hair. She shifts the gigantic stuffed moose in her arms to fix her bow. “Did you win that guy or did Jimmy?”

“I did! At the Strongman Game!” Penny chirps. Then she pauses. “They should call it the Strong _person_ Game.”

“I agree.” Qrow sticks his hands in his pockets and turns his attention to James. “So,” he drawls.

“So,” James parrots. He raises an eyebrow. “Penny, you may go find Ruby if you wish. I’d like to speak to Mr. Branwen.”

“Okay! Will you hang onto Syrup for me?” She holds out the moose. James takes it and tucks it under his right arm as best as he can. Qrow snorts.

“I am a delight.” James says. Qrow barks a laugh, and James’ eyes sparkle with mirth.

“Oh, yeah?” Qrow replies, still snickering. “Who told you that?”

“Penny did.” James smiles. “She says I am a delightful headmaster.”

“But that doesn’t make you a _delight_ , it just makes you a good headmaster,” Qrow refutes. “But holding stuffed moose for your students makes you somethin’ else, Jimmy Jam.”

“James.”

“Whatever.” He waves James away. “We gotta talk.”

“Talk about what?” James asks, wary. Qrow narrows his eyes, glances around them. Beckons James in closer.

James leans. Qrow draws his hand out of his pocket and snags James’ tie. He uses the fabric as leverage to pull James closer and smacks a kiss to his lips. “Hi,” he says softly. “Nice to see you, Jim.”

“Qrow,” James whispers, scandalized and reddening rapidly.

“Shut up,” Qrow murmurs, pulling him back by his tie for another kiss. “I am a _delight_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	17. Portbleck - Lazy Morning Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

Barty wakes him up with a kiss. “Good morning,” Bart says, draping himself over Peter’s chest.

“Good morning,” Peter replies, brushing a hand over Bart’s hair–but not through Bart’s hair, no matter how much he wants to; he knows how much it upsets Bart when people come close to touching his scalp. Touching the scars.

He draws Bart in for another kiss, this one softer. “Sleep well?” he asks.

Bart nods, trades another kiss with him. “You? Have any interesting dreams?”

“I slept well.” Peter runs his hand down the long, long expanse of Bart’s back. “No noteworthy dreams, no.” They kiss again.

“We should get up,” Bart says, lips dragging against Peter’s. His breath ruffles Peter’s mustache.

“We should,” Peter agrees. “But we’re allowed lazy days.” His hands settle on Bart’s sides, and his thumbs rub circles over the bottom of Bart’s ribcage.

“We are.” Bart kisses him another time. “But we have classes to teach today.”

They shuffle out of bed together, staying as twined together as possible, trading kisses the whole while. “I’ll make coffee while you get dressed, dear,” Peter says.

Bart leans, rests his cheek against Peter’s hair, buries his nose into the silver locks. “I love you,” Bart replies. Peter twists to kiss him again. He reaches up to cup Bart’s face, and the cool metal of his wedding band rests against his jaw. “Are we wearing our rings today or do they go back on the chains?” Bart asks softly.

“I was planning on wearing mine,” Peter says. “But if you’d rather I didn’t–”

“No!” Bart interrupts, kissing him again, this one much more insistent than the others previous. “Wear it. I’ll wear mine.” He pulls himself away from Peter, however reluctantly, and picks the thin golden chain off their dresser. He unclasps it, pulls the ring off, and makes to fit it onto his finger.

“Hang on, Barty,” Peter says. Bart hesitates. Peter steps over, takes the ring, and takes Bart’s hand. “Allow me.”

“Oh, Peter,” Bart breathes. Peter slides Bart’s ring onto his ring finger and looks up at him, expression open and warm. “Go make coffee, you old fool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> secret married au portbleck. <3
> 
> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	18. Portbleck - "I can think of a million places I'd rather be right now."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pagóni Váskas is my peacock faunus beacon teacher oc and i love them

Barty and his team have been gone a week. He has sent the occasional text to Peter; touching base, checking in, letting him know he was okay. That he was safe. But he hasn’t had much signal on his Scroll, and despite all reassurance that he was safe, Peter couldn’t help but worry.

Professor Váskas has been teaching History classes in the meantime, keeping Barty’s students caught up for when he returns. Which, if Peter’s calculations were right, would be any day now. It never took longer than this.

“Peter,” Pagóni Váskas says suddenly, tail feathers trailing behind them. _Two bird Faunus teach history classes at Beacon_ , Peter thinks to himself. _Though one has had his wings tragically clipped_. “Peter,” they say again, more firmly.

Peter looks up from his lunch. “Yes? My apologies, Pagóni. I must have been elsewhere.” He taps his temple and grins apologetically. His Scroll chimes.

Pagóni crosses their arms, and their tail swishes up and shakes itself open, blocking the two from the rest of the cafeteria. “You seem distant. Your students are beginning to notice.” They glance pointedly to one side, to where team JNPR is looking at the pair. Miss Nikos, at least, has the decency to look away when caught. “What is going on?” They drop their voice. “Is it Barty?”

“How could you tell?” Peter replies, voice equally quiet. He picks up his mug and sips at it.

“You’re a tea drinker, not a coffee drinker.” Pagóni’s tail droops, closes, and they slide into the seat across from Peter and prop themself on the table by their elbows. “You only drink coffee when he’s away.”

“Yes, well,” Peter blusters, and busies himself checking his scroll so he doesn’t have to see Pagóni’s intensely green and mildly concerned stare.

_There are a million places I would rather be right now and all of them are with you,_ a text from Barty reads. He signs it with a heart. Peter softens and stirs the spoon around in his coffee.

_Tell me about them,_ Peter replies.

“It isn’t easy to miss a significant other,” Pagóni says gently. Peter’s Scroll chimes again. “Especially when you can’t let your students know it’s that person you miss.”

“You preach to the choir, Pagóni,” Peter says, glancing down at his Scroll again.

_The beach, for one. A library. A bookstore. Forever Fall. Emerald Forest. Vale, Vacuo, Mistral, Atlas…_ Barty’s reply says.

_What’s your favorite?_ Peter asks. He misses Pagóni’s eyes flicking up over the top of his head, but doesn’t miss their sudden, knowing grin. He raises an eyebrow, and Pagóni shakes their head. He hears a Scroll chime behind him, but assumes it’s a student’s; it’s not an uncommon ringtone.

“My favorite?” Barty’s voice rings out behind him. Peter goes very, very still and his eyes go wide. “Right here. Hi, Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	19. Bumbleby - Things you said under the stars and in the grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by RogueWolfPrints

“I’m glad you came with me.” Yang puts her hand over Blake’s wrist, and the cool metal is a welcome relief from the summer heat, even in the dead of night. “It was a lot more fun with you.” The grass swishes around them, and there are more stars visible in Patch than Blake has seen in a long time.

A lightning bug floats above them. Blake tracks it and lifts the arm not under Yang’s hand to swat lazily at it.

“We can catch them if you want,” Yang says, pointing with her left hand as the bug lights up again.

“No, that’s okay. I like laying here,” Blake replies, leaving the _with you_ unspoken and dangling in the air. She turns her hand and laces her fingers with Yang’s, and Yang glances down before tightening her fingers. Blake guesses their day has thrown her calibrations off.

“Good, because I’m beat.” Yang’s backtracking is nothing new. Blake has just never had it applied to  _her_ before, and it’s not as disconcerting or irritating as it was when turned on Weiss or Ruby. “I’d rather lay here.” Blake can almost taste the _with you_ not unlike her own moments ago.

Her heart warms. “Yang, I…” she hesitates, looks away, tracks another lightning bug in the distance as it flashes and goes dark again. “Um. Never mind.”

Yang pushes herself up onto her elbows and leans over, resting all her weight on her right arm. “Hey Blake,” she whispers.

Blake looks back at her partner, questioning noise dying in her throat as Yang kisses her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	20. Ironqrow - Things you said in the grass and under the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

Despite not wearing his Dress Whites, James is hesitant to sit down in the grass where Qrow is patting.

“C’mon, buddy,” Qrow says. “Wait, you’re not my buddy.” His patting pauses for a brief moment.

James raises an eyebrow. “I’m not?” he replies, folding his legs carefully under himself and sitting down.

“It’s kinda weird to call your boyfriend _buddy_ , isn’t it,” Qrow says, flopping back and stretching out. James watches him, eyebrow still raised. “I mean.” Qrow hesitates. “If you’d like to be my boyfriend.”

Carefully, James lays back, and Qrow pushes himself into James’ side. “I’d like that,” James says softly. Qrow shifts and drapes himself across James’ chest.

“You would, huh?” he says.

James’ arms come around Qrow. “I wouldn’t have said I’d like it if I didn’t,” he replies. He can feel Qrow’s smile in the relaxed slope of his shoulders and the gentle slowing of his breathing and the fluttering of his pulse under the sensors of his cybernetic hand. “How did you find this place? It’s beautiful.”

“Oh, I’ve lived out here with the rest of my team since we graduated Beacon,” Qrow replies. James feels Qrow’s voice rumble against both sides of his chest instead of just the left and he has never felt more whole. “I’ve loved it out here specifically since I found it, so I…” He buries his face against James’ shoulder. “I’m glad you like it.”

There are more stars visible here than there are on the rest of Patch, and James is awestruck by the splendor of the night sky. “Thank you for sharing it with me,” James says softly, running his hand down Qrow’s back.

“Hey Jim,” Qrow whispers, propping himself on his elbows on James’ chest. James raises an eyebrow. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” James replies, and meets him halfway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	21. Crime Dads - Things you said with no space between us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ironwoodisbae

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Things you said too quietly"

“Well this is certainly not how I pictured my night going,” Roman says with a smirk that seems more bravado and farce than usual. He and Junior are pressed chest-to-chest (well, chest-to-sternum) in the smallest broom closet in the club. The rolling mop bucket is digging into his calves and nearly tipping him over.

Junior rolls his eyes and braces his hands against the wall above Roman’s head so he doesn’t fall. “What was the part you didn’t picture? Our daughters locking us in this closet until we _sort each other out_?” he deadpans.

“What does that even mean?” Roman agrees, laughing lightly. He won’t meet Junior’s gaze.

Junior takes a deep breath. “I guess this has to do with how we’ve been avoiding each other since we had dinner last week?” he tries. Roman’s shoulders go tense.

“You mean after we, ah.” His shoulders curl in and brush Junior, and Junior frowns a bit. “After we kissed each other goodnight?”

“Roman,” Junior says quietly. “We’ve been fuckbuddies for pretty much a year. I didn’t mind that we kissed.” That wasn’t even the half of it. “I actually liked it. Y’know. Sometimes I like affection without anything behind it but… affection. I like affection a lot, really.”

 _Why can’t he shut up_?

Roman’s arms slide around his middle, and he presses his face against Junior’s chest. “Junior, I _love you_ ,” he says. And then he goes rigid. “I didn’t mean to say that. I did _not_ mean to say that.”

Junior leaves one hand bracing himself so he doesn’t fall and drops the other to Roman’s back. “Do you mean it, or did it just slip out?” he asks.

“…Both?” Roman says, the end of the word trailing up like a question. “I mean, I–”

“Hey,” Junior interrupts, quietly. “Hey,” he says again. Roman looks up at him, eyebrows creased with embarrassment. His ears are red. “It’s nice to know you feel the same.” Junior can feel his own ears turning red.

Suddenly hands are gripping his vest and pulling him down and he’s too busy kissing Roman to notice that he has lost his balance until they land with a crash and the sound of splintering wood against the wall.

The door swings open. “What broke?” Melanie demands. “We heard something break–what broke?”

“Can we come out?” Junior replies, bullet fast. Melanie rolls her eyes, but steps to the side and motions. And then his eyes go narrow. “ _You were listening to us?_ ”

“Well, yeah. We had to make sure you two talked like adults. So answer my question, Dad, what broke?” Melanie demands again, thrusting her hand out as though asking for something physical.

“The sexual tension, probably,” Militia comments, idly checking her nails. Junior pushes himself to his feet and helps Roman up. Underneath him is the broken remains of a mop and the beginnings of a hole in the wall.

“There was no sexual tension to break,” Roman says, brushing bits of drywall off of his backside. “Not when your father and I have been doing it on the regular for almost a year now.” The twins’ and Neo’s looks of abject horror is absolutely worth the admission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	22. Ironqrow - Things you said after you kissed me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ironwoodisbae

“I might be gayer than I thought,” Qrow teases, brushing his nose against James’. James rolls his eyes, but it’s a fond gesture.

“Must you say that every time I kiss you?” he asks. Qrow grins, and James sees it in the way their eyes lock and Qrow’s sparkle red like wine in sunlight.

“Only when you kiss me like _that_ –besides, it’s true,” Qrow insists. “I swear I get gayer every time.” James raises an eyebrow. “All preference for women, gone by now,” Qrow continues. “Just to be replaced by how I feel for you and how that’s not changing any time soon.” His voice has softened in volume and tone, and James fights the urge to melt; even though he’s still teasing Qrow sounds so _sincere_ it comes close to aching.

“So how do you feel about me?” James presses. Qrow’s mouth twists into something thoughtful, and James presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Well,” Qrow starts, smoothing his hands over James’ shoulders. “On one level, I’m glad I know you.” He falls quiet, and his eyes drift away as he thinks, leaving him staring intently past James’ right ear. “I’m glad that you trust me with knowing about your cybernetics, and how they work, and trusting me to fix them.”

James’ thumb rubs circles over Qrow’s hipbones over the fabric of his pants.

“I’m glad that I get to spend time with you, even if we’re arguing because one of us is bad at keeping contact when we get busy.” This statement is aimed at himself, James knows, because Qrow is the one more likely to forget to send a text. “I love getting to see you care for your students and for mine, and for Ruby and Yang too–they like you. Not as much as I do, clearly.”

Qrow’s eyes focus in on him again. “I’m honored that I get to be so close to you. I’m flattered that you care for me. I’m excited to get to marry you. I love you so much it’s hard to be snarky sometimes.”

He opens his mouth to speak again, but James cuts him off with a kiss not unlike the one that brought them there in the first place.

“I’m glad you’re mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	23. “It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me.” - Crime Dads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“Well, well, look what the Grimm dragged in.” Junior grinned and set the cup of coffee as gently as he could on the counter in front of Roman.

Roman examined the mug (“ _Someone I Love Went To Vacuo And All I Got Was This Stupid Mug_ ”) and made grabby hands at Junior, who set sugar and cream down on the counter also. “You do kinda look like a Grimm coughed you up,” Junior commented.

“Could it be…” Roman glared and began preparing his coffee. “Because I am not wearing makeup as I usually do?”

Junior squinted at Roman and tilted his head from one side to the other. “Nah,” he replied. “I didn’t even notice you weren’t all made up. I mean, that’s not to say that I never notice. It’s just that I didn’t notice this time because you’re still very… uh. Pajama-ed.”

“Junior, honey, it’s eight thirty in the morning. I have a hangover. I have business to attend to today. You’re annoying me,” Roman deadpanned. He sipped his coffee.

Instead of taking it to heart like Junior was sure anyone else who dealt with Roman would have done, he came around the counter with his own cup of coffee–creamered but not sugared excessively like Roman did to his–and sat next to him at the breakfast bar. Roman leaned against his shoulder. Junior nuzzled his nose into Roman’s hair and enjoyed the moment.

“When is your business?” Junior asked, straightening up and looping his fingers through the handle of his mug and brushing his thumb over the face of the cartoon character splashed across the side.

“It’s at noon,” Roman replied. He reached over and prodded Junior’s mug. “How come you get the cute cartoon character mug and I get the tourist garbage mug?”

“You brought that _tourist garbage_ mug back from Vacuo for me. I thought it was fitting that you used it,” Junior replied.

“Isn’t it usually the one who gets the mug as a gift uses it?” Roman quipped. “And not the person that _gave it_?”

“Finish your coffee, dear,” Junior said instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://autisticjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	24. “I accidentally called you my girlfriend/boyfriend today.” Portbleck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“…So I said to my husband, Peter–ooh,” Bart cuts himself off, a hand flying to his mouth and mismatched eyes going wide. “Oh, dear,” he says.

Tukson grins, and the catlike ferocity of it sets a chill down Bart’s back–the fact that Tukson is feline and Bart aviary notwithstanding. “Your husband, Peter?” he parrots quietly, clearly amused. “Where’d you get married?” He leans on the counter separating them.

Bart scrubs a hand through his hair. “We were on a mission together in Menagerie,” he admits. “Human-Faunus marriage is legal there.”

“But not here,” Tukson agrees. “I get ya.” He nods. “The marriage doesn’t carry over to Vale, does it?”

“Technically… no,” Bart says, looking away and down. “But we hold it up regardless.”

Tukson frowns, but nods again. “Right, right. Didn’t expect otherwise.” He straightens and slides the bag across the counter. “Hey, so, I’ll give you a call when the next one comes out, okay buddy?” He winks. “And your marital status will stay safe and secret with me. Cross my heart.” He makes the motion of crossing his heart, and Bart feels himself–oddly–relax.

He can trust Tukson.

“Thank you, Tukson,” he says, smiling. “For the book and the reassurance of your secrecy.”

Tukson gives him a two fingered salute and waves him out of the store.

—

“Peter,” Bart says, later that night, curled into his husband’s side. “I may have let slip to someone the exact nature of our involvement today.”

“Oh, you did?” Peter replies. His hand smooths over Bart’s shoulder and the nerves that had sprung up settled down. He loves that about Peter–that the man could and always had been able to calm him over even the slightest of things.

“Yes.” The nerves jump again.

“Who was it?” Peter asks. “How did they respond to the news?” He is still rubbing Bart’s shoulder, and he’s grateful for the contact.

“It was Tukson, as I was picking up _Cruise Ship Conundrum_ ,” Bart admits. “He’s a fellow Faunus, so he said he wouldn’t tell.”

“He’s also your friend,” Peter interjects. “So he wouldn’t tell.”

“Right you are, my love,” Bart says. Why was he worried in the first place?

Peter kisses his forehead, and then his temple, and the bristly hairs of his mustache tickle.

Then there’s a very obvious pause. “Isn’t _Cruise Ship Conundrum_ another one of those silly Human-Faunus ‘forbidden romance’ stories?” Peter asks.

Bart feels himself flush to the roots of his hair. “Yes,” he says. “This one is male Human and male Faunus, though.” He fights the urge to hide his face in Peter’s shoulder. “As cheesy and admittedly, ah, Faunus-fetishy as they can get, it’s nice to have books with pairs like us.”

Peter hums thoughtfully, and Bart can tell he’s holding back a _fetishy isn’t good enough_ rant. “Will you let me read it when you’re through with it?” he asks instead.

“Absolutely,” Bart replies. “I love you,” he says next.

“I love you as well,” Peter replies. “But I don’t love those books.” Bart knows this, and Bart knows that Peter only reads them so he can pick them apart as he goes–just as much for his enjoyment as for Peter’s own.

“I know.” Bart laughs softly. “I can’t wait to see what you think of this one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	25. portbleck - “That was a perfect example of how not to do things.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, I could never find the ask of the person requesting this, so I don't know who to attribute the request to.  
> Shrug emoji
> 
> This drabble is a sequel to the immediate previous one, chapter 24

Bart stops by Peter’s classroom during the last quarter hour of their free period before the first years come in. Peter is reading the last few pages of _Cruise Ship Conundrum_ , brows furrowed and clearly frowning in distaste. “How’s the book been, dear?” he asks, leaning on the desk.

“It’s garbage,” Peter says shortly. “This is possibly the worst one you’ve picked up, Barty. Saffron Harley is _clearly_ human.”

Bart raises an eyebrow. “I picked that up from her portrait and the blurb on the back,” he says, grinning. “But please. Tell me how you got to your conclusion.” He props his chin on his fist and looks over the frames of his glasses at his husband.

“First of all, she hasn’t put a lick of research into her writing faunus characters,” Peter starts, tapping the back of his hand against the page he’s on. “Faunus _don’t go into heat_ , let alone as far as I know aviary-traited faunus. Ms. Harley writes Rufous as going into heat _twice_ in this book so far just by being in Malbec’s presence. No heat works that way, either.”

Bart nods. “Go on,” he prods, grin widening.

“Second of all–bodies don’t move or work that way.” Peter flips back a good chunk of pages and thrusts the book under Bart’s nose, pointing at a specific paragraph. Bart refocuses on the page and skims.

 _Ah, yes_. Bart thinks, scrunching up his nose and doing his best not to laugh. _This bit._

“Rufous can’t twist that far around to put his hands on Malbec’s cheeks as long as they’re embracing this way,” Peter says, vehement. Bart snickers, unable to help himself. “And this isn’t even going as far as to mention that Rufous apparently enjoys having the feathers in his hair tugged on. I would imagine that to be painful, not pleasurable.”

“No, no, you’re correct, dear. That would hurt.” Bart nods, biting his lip. “Just like having ears or tails pulled. It would take me completely out of the moment, personally.”

“Why is that a common theme?” Peter laments, flipping back to his place. “To hurt your faunus partner in the name of _pleasure-pain_ that would only just result in pain.” He gets as close to a sneer as Bart has ever seen. “If I ever hurt you, love, please tell me.”

“I will,” Bart says, voice gentle. Peter’s expression softens and his eyes are warm over the top of the book, but they snap back to being critical and hard as soon as he looks back down at the page. Bart straightens as Peter goes back to reading and glances around the classroom. He’s always been fascinated by the drawings of the Grimm Peter has on his boards.

“Oh, _good_ , the captain of the ship has told Rufous if he wants to keep his job he must stay away from Malbec,” Peter says, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “And this supposedly final joining has drawn Grimm. Is this Ms. Harley’s idea of a proper conflict?”

Bart covers his mouth, eyes drawn back to his husband. “May I spoil the ending for you?” he asks.

“Please do,” Peter replies, putting the book down and pushing his chair back.

“Malbec dies at Rufous’s side trying to protect him from the Grimm attack, which draws more Grimm. Rufous’s grief has him picking up Malbec’s weapon and fighting back twice as hard. He singlehandedly saves the rest of the cruise and is named a hero by the very man who tried to separate him from his love just pages earlier,” Bart says, watching for Peter’s reaction.

Peter’s eyeroll is _legendary_.

“That was my reaction as well,” Bart continues, grinning fully once more. “I wasn’t even aware the two were Huntsmen, what with Rufous working on this cruise ship and all.”

“Their first coupling has Rufous mentioning a box at the foot of Malbec’s bed, maybe that housed his weapon?” Peter says. Then he pauses. “I’d actually not like to try to make sense of this drivel. Don’t buy any more of this author. I _beg_ you, Barty.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Bart says. A quick glance at the clock on Peter’s desk gives him enough confirmation that he has time to come around the desk and perch himself on Peter’s lap. Peter’s hands come to rest on his hips. “I’ll look for faunus authors next time. All these books I’ve been buying lately have human authors.”

“Why don’t you write one?” Peter suggests. “You could use this one as a perfect example of what _not_ to do.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Bart shakes his head. “I am a historian and a teacher, not an author. Not to mention any readers would assume I’m human.”

“I never said it had to be under Bartholomew Oobleck, dear,” Peter says. “But if you don’t want to I won’t press.”

“Give me time to think about it,” Bart says, carding the fingers of one hand through Port’s hair.

“Of course,” Peter says, tipping his chin up. Bart kisses him.

–

_Linos Mantis is a teacher by day, a writer by night, and a 45 year old hummingbird faunus from Vale who never stops talking._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	26. “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five cats.” arkos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ironwoodisbae

“Jaune?” Pyrrha asks, looking up from her Scroll. Jaune freezes, hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going?”

“Um, out,” he replies, not meeting her gaze. His eyes slide to the side, and so do Pyrrha’s. Ren and Nora are watching them; Ren from above his homework and Nora from above her novel. Pyrrha motions for them to go back to what they were doing, and then looks back to Jaune. He has pouches of tuna in his hand.

“Don’t you dislike tuna?” she asks. Jaune nods. Pyrrha slides off of her bed. “You’ve been leaving about this time every day for the last two weeks. Do you mind if I come with you today?”

Jaune sighs, and then nods. “Yeah, I guess you can.”

“I don’t have to go if you don’t want me to,” Pyrrha replies, moving to sit back down.

“No, no, don’t–I want you to come. But I’m. I don’t know. Just. Come on, Pyrrha,” Jaune backpedals.

–

Jaune stops walking at a couple of bushes by the courtyard. “Here,” he says. “You’re not… you’re not allergic to cats, are you, Pyrrha?” Pyrrha shakes her head. “Good.” He crouches, and then motions for her to back away a little. She complies. He pulls open one of the tuna pouches and dumps it into the grass under the bush.

Two kittens inch out. One is sandy and the other is almost black. “This is Aruna and Hari. Back there behind them are Pudding, Pizza, and Popcorn.”

“Have you been feeding _kittens_?” Pyrrha asks.

“I, heh, may have accidentally adopted all five of them here. I started feeding them because they looked hungry and I’ve. Already talked to Mom and Dad. I can bring them home next break. I’m already planning on how to sneak them onto the Bullhead.”

Pyrrha crouches as well and creeps forward, hand out. One kitten approaches her and sniffs at her hand. “Which one is this?” she asks.

“That’s Pizza,” Jaune replies.

Pizza bites Pyrrha’s finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	27. "you were free running on low buildings and fell off of one" Seamonkeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full prompt is "you were free running on low buildings and fell off of one and i'm so sorry that your leg is probably broken but i cannot for the life of me stop laughing" for Seamonkeys
> 
> requested by sakurakat96

Neptune looks up at the voice whooping and hollering above and in front of him. There’s a figure jumping roof to roof and in the bright sunlight Neptune can see a tail on the figure. The only person he knew with a tail was a boy in his class. This must be him.

As they draw level to each other, the boy drops onto a balcony and Neptune realizes he was right. He stops and watches his classmate climb onto the balcony railing and prepare himself to jump–and then he pushes off.

Neptune watches him miss just slightly and hang onto the bottom of the balcony opposite the one he was originally on. His shoes scrape against the brick wall a couple of times, and then he slips and drops with a shout of “Shit!”

He lands on his feet and drops into a roll–and smacks right into Neptune, bowling both of them over. “Shit,” the other says again. “Sorry! Hey, I know you. Neptune, right?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Neptune says, pushing himself up to stand and then offering a hand to the other.

“I’m Sun,” Sun says, taking Neptune’s hand and letting Neptune pull him to standing as well. “Guess I couldn’t help falling for you.” He winks, and despite feeling his face flush, Neptune rolls his eyes in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	28. “When did you get so beautiful?” Arkos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“How are you feeling?” Pyrrha asks, leaning into the dorm room, head tilted and concern clear across her features.

Jaune groans and lifts his head from his pillow. “What time’z’it?” he slurs, stuffy and hoarse. Pyrrha slips completely into the room and perches on the end of his bed.

“We just got out of Port’s class. Ren and Nora are with Team RWBY getting dinner. I thought I’d check on you first,” she says, resting a hand on his ankle.

Jaune nods and rubs the heel of his hand under his nose. “So it’s… after four o’clock?” He sniffles and squints at Pyrrha, who nods and scoots closer to him. “Hey, P?” he croaks.

“Yes?” she replies, putting one hand on his side and leaning up to cup his cheek in the other. His face is flushed and warm under her palm.

“When did you get _so beautiful_?”

Jaune’s words shock Pyrrha into jerking her hand back with a tiny squeak. “Y-you’re feeling awfully warm still, Jaune. I don’t think your fever’s broken yet,” she says instead.

“Okay,” Jaune replies, dropping his face back into his pillow. “‘M tired,” he says next. Pyrrha rubs at his shoulder.

“Get some rest,” she says.

“Been doin’ that,” Jaune protests, voice a cracking whine. Pyrrha shakes her head.

“Get some _more_ rest, then. You need it.” Her voice is soft, but firm, and Jaune’s raspy hum of agreement as he shuffles to reposition himself and nuzzles deeper into his pillow amuses her more than it should have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	29. “The skirt is short on purpose.” Arkos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ironwoodisbae

Jaune grumbles around a mouthful of pins. “Pyrrha, stop fidgeting,” he admonishes, slipping another pin from his mouth and into the hem of the skirt. “I don’t want to poke you with a pin.”

“I don’t understand,” she protests. “Is Copperwish’s skirt supposed to be this short?” Jaune leans back on his heels and doublechecks against the picture on his Scroll.

“Yeah,” he replies. “It’s not any shorter than you usually wear.” He shrugs.

Pyrrha frowns. “What I usually wear is shorts covered by a sash, Jaune. Not a skirt.” Jaune looks up the length of her body at her from where he’s knelt on the floor at her feet and then snaps his head back down, cheeks reddening.

“If you want to wear your shorts under the skirt you can,” he mumbles, focusing on the skirt hem. “As soon as I finish this and stitch it up, we can work on the Olivemint puffy shorts.”

Pyrrha hesitates. “Are you okay with cosplaying Olivemint?” she asks. “His shorts look an awful lot like a skirt.”

Jaune nods and slides the last pin into the skirt. “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be putting makeup on to make myself look more, uh, square in the face.”

“You’re going to contour?” Pyrrha can’t help her questioning look. “You know how to do makeup?”

“I’ve been doing this since I was twelve, P. Cosplaying, anyways. I know how to do makeup for this. Anything else? Nah.” Jaune shrugs again. “Okay. Be careful when you take off the skirt.” He scoots back and turns pointedly away, snapping up his Scroll and swiping to the next picture.

Olivemint and his minty green pumpkin shorts and puff sleeves pops up and Jaune stares determinedly at the picture on his screen instead of listening to Pyrrha slide out of the skirt behind him. His ears redden again. “Did I tell you that I convinced Ren to be the Almondflame in our Cloud Guardians group?” he asks, carefully conversational.

“You did?” Pyrrha responds lightly. “Was it because Nora is our Tigermist?” She sets the skirt next to his elbow and Jaune looks over his shoulder to a faceful of maroon sweatpants that are definitely his and not Pyrrha’s. His face flames again at the realization that the t-shirt she’s been wearing the entire time is one he’d thought had gone missing a week prior.

“No, actually,” he says, instead of bringing up her clothing choices that shouldn’t be much of a surprise considering the four of them have been staying in his house since Beacon let out for the summer. “It’s because Nora isn’t our Prettyspring. Apparently Ren’s a Springflame shipper and sees Almondflame and Tigermist like siblings.”

“All that affects his cosplay choices?” Pyrrha asks, almost incredulous. “Cosplay shipping?”

Jaune swallows down his first instinct response, which was to mention that the reason he suggested Pyrrha cosplay Copperwish was for cosplay shipping Olivewish. “Well, yeah.” He makes a half thoughtful motion. “A lot of people make costume choices based on who they’re cosplaying with and who they want to see together.”

Pyrrha hums, thoughtful. “What would Copperwish and Olivemint be called?” she asks.

Jaune turns and looks at her again. “It depends on who you ask. I like Olivewish, but Ren calls it Coppermint.” He pauses and squints up at her. “Why do you ask?” His heart is in his throat.

Pyrrha shrugs, smirking despite her rapidly pinking cheeks. “No reason. Is it a popular pairing?”

“Not… really.” Jaune twists to pick up the scissors and cut around the puff short pattern on the minty fabric. “But I, heh, kinda like them together because they remind me of, uh. Us.”

“Oh!” Pyrrha squeaks. Jaune feels the back of his neck burn. “I actually thought the same.” Jaune has to stop cutting so he doesn’t ruin the fabric with the way his hands jolt.

“R-really?” he asks, voice cracking. Pyrrha giggles and runs her fingers through his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	30. “The skirt is short on purpose.” bumbleby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Ironwoodisbae
> 
> Set in the same verse as the immediate previous drabble; chapter 29

“Why are all the skirts in Cloud Guardians so short?” Blake laments, tugging at the edge underneath the wispy drape. “I mean, it was nice of your dad to make all four of our costumes, but is the skirt really supposed to be this short?”

“Taiyang Xiao Long is a lot of things, Belladonna, and that includes a cosplay perfectionist just like the blond who roped us into this cosplay group, so I’d say it is supposed to be that short,” Yang replies, draping an arm around Blake’s shoulders. “Y’know,” she says next, “looking at us… I really like the idea of Mossbug and Tigermist together.”

Blake raises an eyebrow. “Oh?” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You look a lot like Tigermist by the way. You suit her.” She shifts her weight onto one foot and curls a finger into the end of the deep green wig.

“Thank you, Moss-Blake,” Yang teases, tightening her arm and pulling Blake further into her side. “Wanna take a cosplay test selfie?” She pulls her orange wig braid over her shoulder and digs her Scroll out of the pocket of the puffy shorts that only differ in color from Olivemint’s.

“Sure,” Blake says, dropping into a more Mossbug-like pose–she curls her fingers against her chin, snakes her other arm around Yang's middle, shifts her weight again, and looks up through the green bangs at Yang instead of Yang’s Scroll.

When Yang looks at the selfie, she lets out a low whistle. “Yeah, I ship it,” she says.

“I don’t know what that means,” Blake says, dropping her hand from her chin to lace her fingers together around Yang’s middle.

“You’re a liar,” Yang snips, smirking. “You ship shit from Ninjas of Love all the time.” There’s a visible shift under Blake’s wig that must be her ears and her cheeks redden. Yang kisses her cheeks, still smirking.

Yang sends the cosplay test selfie to Jaune and bursts out laughing at the almost immediate response of “holy shit you guys look so good oh my god BEST”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	31. “Please put me down it’s just a sprained ankle" Emmercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anonymous

“Em,” Mercury whines. Emerald ignores him. “Em,” he says again, louder.

“What?” she snaps. Her shoulders are tensed up with effort.

“Put me down,” he demands, squirming for emphasis.

Emerald shifts her grip on Mercury’s thighs and sighs forcefully through her nose. “You’re missing a piece in your foot,” she says. “I’m not putting you down.”

“It’s just a screw,” Mercury protests. “So what if it hurts? I can still _walk on it_.” He leans back a bit, and Emerald teeters and staggers a few steps. “I’m too heavy for you to carry anyways.”

“Fuck you for losing it in the first place,” Emerald starts. “And second of all, you wouldn’t be hard to carry if you would just be still for fucking once.”

“Where are you even taking me?” Mercury asks, pressing his cheek against the side of Emerald’s head and letting his arms hang over her shoulders.

“Junior’s,” Emerald grunts, hiking him higher on her back. “And I’m dropping you on your ass as soon as we get there.”

“That’s fair.” Mercury shrugs and sticks his arm across Emerald’s face to push his bangs out of his eyes. She bites him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	32. “this is all a fucking disaster.” for emmercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Maidenofghosts

“Don’t even look at me,” Emerald snaps, turning sharply away from Mercury.

“What? Why not? What did I do?” Mercury follows her around, and huffs when she turns again.

“You knocked my ice cream out of my hand, stupid,” Emerald snarls. “The whole fucking bowl! Gone. Because of your clumsy ass.”

Mercury folds his arms over his chest. “I thought your bowl was empty _and_ I didn’t mean to actually hit it,” he defends himself.

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Emerald holds a hand up, palm out. “I just want my ice cream.”

“Em!” Mercury protests.

“Can it.” Emerald turns her nose up.

“Em.” Mercury gestures, nose wrinkling.

“This is a fucking disaster, Mercury.” She sneers at him over her shoulder.

“What do you want me to do about it?” He gestures between her and the bowl overturned on the floor.

“Pick up my bowl and get me more ice cream,” she replies. Mercury rolls his eyes. “I’m dead fucking serious. Pick up that bowl and get me more ice cream.”

“Why don’t I just pick up your bowl and you get you more ice cream?” he says, stooping and picking up the bowl. He leaves the ice cream where it is on the floor. Emerald huffs. “Fine.” Mercury straightens and stomps off.

Emerald watches him go, shoulders slumping a bit, and listens to him rattle around in the kitchen.

“Here, happy?” He shoves the bowl–piled high with both her ice cream and his–under her nose when he returns.

“Not yet,” she says, taking the bowl from him.

“But will you be?” he pushes, sticking the spoon from his other hand in the bowl.

“We’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	33. "Oh shit. Am I - Am I in love?" Emmercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Full prompt: "Oh shit. Am I - Am I in love? That's not supposed to be happening. That's not right." for emmercury
> 
> Requested by Maidenofghosts

“What do you mean it’s _not right_?” Roman Torchwick thankfully keeps all mocking out of his tone as he props his chin on one hand and leans over the bar to raise an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong with being in love, green?”

“Nothing! I guess. I don’t know?” Emerald groans and tips her face toward the high ceiling. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” she repeats, gripping handfuls of her hair.

“Why not?” Roman prods, tilting his head. She drops her hands and turns to look at him, eyes narrowing coldly. “I’m just trying to pick your brain!”

Emerald huffs loudly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe I don’t want my brain _picked_ ,” she snaps.

Roman holds up his hands defensively. “Listen, Shooty-Booties leaves my husband’s bar and you get all existential. I want to help.”

“Stop it,” Emerald insists.

“Okay,” Roman says, straightening up and picking his cane from behind the bar. “I’ll just get what I came here for and leave you to your wallowing.” He picks up a bottle of grenadine, shows it to her, and turns.

“W-wait,” Emerald says before she can stop herself. Thoughts run through her head at thousands of miles an hour. “Why?”

“Why what?” Roman’s eyebrow ticks up once more. “Why did you fall in love? Or why him?”

“Why _now_?” Emerald finishes, folding her arms on the bar and dropping her forehead to them.

Roman leans on the bar again, expression softening. “Want me to be honest?” Emerald nods. “You’ve probably been in love with him a while, sweetheart.” Emerald’s groan is only somewhat muffled against the smooth marble of the bar. “You probably only noticed _now_  because you were _safe to_.” He glances briefly over her shoulder. “I know the feeling, trust me.”

“Ugh, I hate myself for even considering asking you like a normal lovestruck teenager, but… what do I do?” Emerald lifts her head and rests her chin on her arms.

“Well…” Roman grins at her. “You could start by telling him. Turn around.”

“Oh, _fuck_ no.” Emerald spins  in her seat. Nobody is there. “Fuck you!” she spits. Roman laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	34. “I’m the Chosen One? Yeah, sure, maybe next week.” Water Lilies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“Ren! Come _on_!” Jaune whines. Neptune and Sun lean into both of his sides, crushing him between them and cackling at each other. “Help me!”

“What?” Ren pulls himself from his notes and looks around for his teammate–who is not where he started out the study session. It’s not hard to spot the whining blond in the very corner of the section of the library they’d holed themselves into.

Maybe inviting teams SSSN and RWBY wasn’t the best idea, now that he thinks about it. They’ve caused nothing but distractions for his probably-ADHD leader.

Ren closes his eyes briefly, debates massaging at his temples despite the lack of headache (maybe the play at irritation will stave them off, maybe not), then opens them again.

“Oooh, Jaune’s chosen the Chosen One!” Sun crows, tail waving behind him.

“ _I’m_ the Chosen One?” Ren parrots, brows furrowing. “Sure. Maybe after exams.” He makes eye contact with Neptune, who flushes from neck to hairline, and grins. _This_ he could use ( _this_  being that his boyfriend is very easy to fluster). “So, Neptune, if you would please convince your partner to let my leader go…” he trails off and raises an eyebrow.

“I–sure, I– okay,” Neptune stammers. “Dude help me out here!” he hisses. It carries in the quiet of the library, and Ren has to fight letting his grin get wider than I’m-mildly-amused.

“Weak,” Sun groans, letting go of Jaune when Neptune does.

“Thank you,” Ren says, when Jaune slips out from between them and heads back to their table, head bowed. He ignores Weiss’s annoyed huff from the next table over and lets his smile soften as he holds eye contact with Neptune just a moment longer.

“You guys are disgusting,” Nora protests cheerfully, leaning as far as she can across the table, finger outstretched.

“I know,” Ren replies, leaning to let her complete the boop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	35. Cooking Dinner and Portbleck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Churro-Chie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For mood music click [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcJm1pOswfM)

Cooking dinner was never an extravagant affair in their house. It was time spent together at the end of the day, after classes and tutoring sessions and staff meetings. It was relaxed and it was casual and it was never without music softly playing from one Scroll or the other in the background as they helped each other out.

“And I told him, you can’t _do_ that, this is a history class, not a gymnasium!” Barty laughs, leaning back from the counter and setting down the potato peeler for a moment.

“So what did he do?” Peter asks, putting a hand at Barty’s back and picking up the peeled potatoes next to Barty’s free hand to wash them and cut them up.

“Why, I’d say he looked quite like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Very, very disappointed,” Barty replies, looking at his husband over the frames of his glasses. He leans down and Peter stretches up to meet him and they kiss, once, before Barty picks the potato peeler back up and attacks the last potato.

A new song fades in on Peter’s Scroll. Peter immediately sets his knife down, reaches over and turns the volume up several notches, and slides an arm around Barty’s middle. “Dance with me!” he says, and pulls Barty away from the counter.

Barty moves pliantly, laughing softly. “What if I want to get dinner in the oven for once before we start acting like lovesick fools?” He drapes his arms around Peter’s shoulders nonetheless, and bends to kiss him again. Peter meets him happily, and then presses several tickly mustache kisses into Barty’s cheeks, leaving him laughing all over again.

Peter takes his hand and starts leading him in a close box step. The two sway back and forth, slower at first, and then speeding up to match to the beat of the song. They part for a moment, pulling away, and when Peter reels Barty back in, he’s singing the words as loud as he dares, looking Barty unwaveringly in the eyes.

“Peter, you sap!” Barty breaks eye contact, cheeks flushing and smiling widely. Peter only continues singing, and then stretches up to kiss his cheeks a few more times.

“Ah, it warms my heart that you still blush so easily after this long,” Peter sighs, pulling Barty even closer.

“I’ll repeat myself,” Barty replies warmly, “You are a sap. A sappy, silly old man! I can’t help blushing when you’re this silly.”

In lieu of replying properly, Peter only picks up singing along to the song again. Barty laughs, and leans to kiss and kiss and kiss him, dinner forgotten on the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	36. Portbleck & Ironqrow - bragging.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“How long do you think it’ll be before the one-upping starts, Barty?” James asks, eyes crinkling with a smile over his mug of coffee.

“Shouldn’t be too long now; why, I’d give it…” He pauses, sips his own coffee. “Three… two… one.”

“Jimmy’s headmaster of Atlas Academy _and_ General of the army, in case you forgot, Pete ol’ buddy,” Qrow says from the living room.

“I’ll concede to that,” Peter says. “But has James killed a Goliath?”

James raises an eyebrow at Bart, who shakes his head. “Peter tells delightful stories,” Bart clarifies. “Not all of them hold much merit of truth.”

“Ah,” James replies, grinning. “Same with Qrow.”

“He’s killed three, a Beowolf with his bare hands, and more!” Qrow boasts.

“I don’t kill Grimm with my bare hands when my guns work fine,” James says. He puts his mug down.

“Barty’s researching ways to preserve Grimm like trophies,” Peter brags.

“That’s literally impossible,” Qrow retorts. “Everyone knows and any hunter worth shit has seen Grimm dissolve right in front of their faces!”

“Ah, but that is not entirely true!” Peter says. Both men in the kitchen can nearly picture the matter-of-fact finger in the air.

“Anything you have is cheap fake taxidermy,” Qrow cuts in before Peter can finish.

James sighs and shakes his head. “Five Lien says they start yelling within the next five minutes.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’ll take that bet.” Bart drains the last of his coffee and moves to pour himself another mugful.

“Jim has _two seats_ on the Atlesian council!” Qrow shouts. “How many does Barty have? _None_.”

“That doesn’t take into the account the Valean council,” Bart says, pulling his wallet from his pocket and handing James a five Lien card. “But Qrow isn’t wrong; I do not have a single seat on the Atlesian council.”

James doesn’t fight the short laugh that escapes him. “How did we end up with the two people on the entirety of Remnant determined to one-up each other when they’re in the same room?” he asks, nothing but good humor.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Bart says, grinning. “But I’m not sure I mind, either.” The glance he sends towards the living room is soft and fond, and James finds himself mirroring it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	37. “Please put me down it’s just a sprained ankle" - Emercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Anipendragon

“Can you, like, not do that?” Emerald snarls, tightening her arms around Mercury’s shoulders as he shifts her on his back again.

“Well, excuse me, Miss Priss,” he replies. “You keep sliding!” Emerald sighs, long and loud through her nose.

“So put me down,” she demands, straightening one leg. “It’s just a sprained ankle.”

“Okay,” Mercury says, all but dropping her. She hits the ground with a yelp.

“Um, ow!?” She glares up at him. He glares back.

“If you don’t appreciate my help, you don’t get my help, Emmie.” Mercury arches an eyebrow, then folds his arms over his chest.

“Fine,” she snaps. “My leg fucking hurts, pick me up.”

Mercury inspects the dirt underneath his fingernails.

“Merc!” It’s not pleading, she’ll swear later.

“Yes?” he drawls, dragging the word out.

“Please,” she says. It’s not begging unless she says it more than once. “Please?” Okay, it’s begging.

“Will you appreciate my help this time?” Mercury asks.

He’s already squatting to lift her again, this time one arm under her knees and one arm around her back.

“I _guess_ ,” she says, tone teasing. She loops both arms around his shoulders. “Thanks, Merc.” She kisses his cheek.

“We aren’t even back to the campsite yet,” he says, looking steadfastly away from her to hide his face flushing.

“I thought you wanted my appreciation,” Emerald replies, smirking. Mercury’s face flushes brighter red.

“Shut up!” he says.

“Oh, my _hero_!” Emerald teases. “Carrying my poor broken body back to camp to patch me up!” She drapes an arm over her forehead for dramatics.

“It’s _just_ a sprained ankle,” Mercury parrots her own words back to her. She smacks kisses to his cheek again, each one louder and wetter sounding than the last. “Emerald! Gross!”

“Love you,” she coos, fluttering her lashes at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mercury grumbles. “Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


	38. “I think I broke it.” - Seamonkeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Requested by Shitloadofdeer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, this is absolutely projecting. i need a cane so neptune does too. don't ask me logistics on how it works.

“Dude, come on, where is it?” Neptune pulls things out of the closet of the dorm they’ve been given at Beacon, tossing aside shirts and jackets and the occasional pair of pants. “Where’s my cane? I know I brought it, I had it on the airship, I had it the other day!” he whines. His hips hurt, and his knee is beginning to join the symphony of pain with a flare of dull ache.

“Um…” Sun starts, in that quietly awkward way that Neptune knows means he’s either found or done something he thinks Neptune isn’t gonna like. “I think I broke it,” he says haltingly.

“What!?” Neptune whips his head around and stares at his partner’s back. Sun’s tail coils and uncoils anxiously, and Neptune sees that he’s got one half of the bright blue, scale patterned aluminum in each hand. “Dude, seriously? My hips _hate_ me today! I can’t go buy another, I need it to get to class!”

Sun’s shoulders curl in. “I’m sorry!” he wails. “I just wanted to adjust the height of it!”

“ _Why!?_ ” Neptune whines. “It was at _my_ height!” Sun turns, chastised.

“I wanted to see what it was like,” he says, trying to hide the two pieces of cane behind his back.

“Sun, you can’t play with that,” Neptune says sharply. He hobbles out of the closet, supporting himself against the wall. “Give it.”

Sun hands it to him, eyes trained on the ugly hotel-style carpet. His anxiety about it bleeds out of him in a rush. All Sun’s done is pull the two pieces apart from each other. It’s not _broken_ -broken, and Neptune tells him such.

“Look, watch,” he says, putting the two ends together and sliding them back to his height setting. He puts the foot of the cane on the ground and leans on it a bit. It doesn’t curb the pain; he needs medication for that, but it helps him take some weight off of his knee at least.

“Hey,” Neptune says, dipping his head and bringing his free hand up to cup Sun’s jaw. “Sun, buddy, dude.” Sun’s eyes flick up to his face and away again. “I was upset ‘cuz I thought my cane was screwed and I’d have to miss class, but it’s not, and I’m not upset anymore, and it’s all good, okay?” He keeps his voice gentle. Sun’s tail flicks behind him, then curls around his own thigh briefly.

“Do you promise?” Sun asks softly.

Neptune presses kisses to his forehead, then his cheekbones, and then the tip of his nose as Sun tilts his head up. “I promise,” he replies. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I’m sorry for messing with your cane.” Sun steps in close and wraps his arms and tail around Neptune’s middle. “I would have found you a new one if I had actually broken it, you know that right? I was totally ready to jump out the damn window to find you one.”

“Please don’t jump out any windows, Sun,” Neptune says. He buries his nose into Sun’s hair.

“I love you, Nep,” Sun says, kissing Neptune’s shoulder over his jacket.

“Love you too.” Neptune kisses his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [on tumblr!](http://avpdjaunearc.tumblr.com)


End file.
